Tracing our ancestry out in the fields

I had an unexpected role this morning, which evolved after I went to see Andrew who is staying in Thrupp now, having been living in Tuscany for about ten years. We went to the same school from the age of 14 so have known each other a long time. I can't say more, but I was glad to establish possibly helpful connections between him and another good friend, who lives locally and also went to the same school, which was about a hundred miles away.

This afternoon, Neil came round by arrangement to take me out for a walk with his dog Lily, and to tell and show me the latest results of his research. I met him last year at a local history group meeting and he lives only a few doors away from us. He is trained as an archaeologist and spend all his spare time exploring the land, old maps and documents, and ferreting in the local Gloucester Records Office.

It is like having a member of the TimeTeam to yourself, as he has done lots of 'geophys' mapping as well as digging holes, all in our backyard, The Horns Valley and The Heavens, which is the area our garden backs onto.

I am interested, in an amateur fashion, in landscape history, having trained as a geographer and economist all those years ago. So I am so delighted to be able to go out with a friend and learn so much, based on all his hard work. He has found some 12th century pottery in the ruins of Wayhouse which lies about two hundred yards from me now. We both feel that there is older evidence around, because our gut feel is there has been continuous occupation of this part of the valley for more than three thousand years. About two miles away is the site of Woodchester Roman villa, where the reputedly finest, and possibly largest, roman mosaic in Britain is buried, covered over by the church graveyard.

We ended up below The Heavens, next to the waterfall and he showed me the outlines of many ruined buildings, which I had no idea were there. Here he is leaping about showing me where the boundary wall is obviously (Oh yeah?) apparent on the ground. He tells me that the meadow where we are standing (I am under a tree, where the house was originally, probably two hundred years ago) is called The Coombs according to the old 17th century maps he found yesterday. Helena always calls it Happy Valley, like many other locals. I just love being there, beside the rushing brook which you can see cutting its way down through the soft clayey meadow, having fallen from on high, very steeply down a waterfall a few yards behind me!

There is lots more to find out, and to then discuss whilst we have a pint of ale. I have offered to help him when he digs, so my camera will be there too.

The view is looking down westwards towards the centre of Stroud, only a mile away, with the edge of the Cotswold escarpment visible on the elevated horizon. our house is less than half a mile away just to the right of the scene. The stream behind Neil runs down into Oakey Grove, which is the small wood you can see just to the right of the picture. Grove is a very old name for a piece of woodland.